


this isn't a date

by Eleanor_Lambb



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Fingerfucking, Other, Vaginal Fingering, author goes absolutely apeshit with apex legends headcanons, dinner and chill, i headcanon wraith as a lesbian, idk how to tag lmao, only on wraith's end though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 12:52:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleanor_Lambb/pseuds/Eleanor_Lambb
Summary: "Why don't you come to my apartment tonight for a drink," Bloodhound asks, "A little company is good for the soul."





	this isn't a date

**Author's Note:**

> :) yes i love this ship. no, this fic isnt that good
> 
> i headcanon wraith as a lesbian. im a nonbinary (i id as genderless) lesbian myself so i project a lot onto bloodhound :)
> 
> im a baby lifeline main, so i dont play wraith a lot but i love her and think shes cool and sexy in a gay way :)

Wraith threw her things into her locker, slamming the door open so hard the metal dented where her fingers landed. She ripped off her knee pads, struggling to undo her belt. Her head rang. **Almost, Almost.**

"Almost had it, I was so fucking _close_ , I almost fucking _had it - "_

Beginning of the round, dropped at the edge of the arena. Trying to find a gun, stumbled upon a locked terminal. One Wraith had never seen before. It was an easy hack, and suddenly, as she started started transferring files to her Cell, Bangalore had snuck up behind her. The Void yelled at her, but she was too busy with the Cell to react fast enough. Wraith woke up in the ship, and once she saw the big red DATA INTERRUPTED prompt on her Cell, she started tearing everything apart. So out of control, the voices in her head growing louder, she almost flung Gibraltar out of the ship.

She plops down on the locker room bench, struggling off her boots.

"Moron, _leak - for - brains_ , you were so fucking _close_ \- "

 **Behind**.

Wraith pounces up, twisting around. She leaps over the bench, grabbing a figure behind by the shoulders, tackling them, pushing her weight down and pinning them to the floor.

Bloodhound doesn't make a sound. They stare silently under Wraith. The voices shriek in her head as the energy of the Void wrap and curl around her arms. Wraith breathes out an angry sigh, tucking her energy away.

"Don't do that," _Am I shaking?_

Wraith stands, returning to taking off her equipment.

"You seem stressed, _vinur minn_. Angry Bangalore got the better of you?" Bloodhound asks, picking themselves up from the floor.

"No," Wraith bites back defensively. She was used to being killed in the arenas - defeat was inevitable - but the fact that she cracked into that terminal in record time, and got killed for it, frustrated her. It made Wraith want to tear everything apart.

Bloodhound makes a ' _Hm_ ,' sound in the back of their throat. There's a few heavy steps behind her, and Bloodhound comes around the bench, leaning their back against the lockers, arms crossing.

"It's not good to be so wound up after deaths. People will think you're a sore loser. That will make your rank drop."

Wraith sucks in an angry breath, "I don't care what people think about me."

"But you want to stay in the arena, don't you?" Bloodhound's head tilts, the baubles from their headgear tinkling, "There's only so many slots for the games. It would be a shame for your public image to drop so much that they would start pulling sponsors."

Wraith growls, shoving her equipment into the locker, slamming the door shut, "Who says I care about the money?"

Bloodhound's head picks up, another ' _Hm_ ,' escaping their throat. Wraith met their gaze, seeing her own disheveled reflection in the lenses of their mask. Bloodhound is just two inches taller than her, the bulky armor they wore making them seem five times bigger.

"Why don't you come to my apartment tonight for a drink," Bloodhound asks, "A little company is good for the soul."

The buzzing voice of the Void is Wraith's head subsides. She narrows her eyes, eyeing Bloodhound's form. In the few months Wraith had been participating in the Apex Arena, she'd made a few people she could consider 'friends,' Bloodhound being one of them. Wraith felt something akin to 'trust,' but she still kept a wary eye. Still, Bloodhound was an honest soul, and a fair teammate, and it wasn't like she had never been out with them before.

"Or we could meet in a public place. A cafe, if you don't drink," Bloodhound shrugs.

"I don't drink, actually," Wraith says. She tried to avoid medication, alcohol, any sort of street drugs, anything that made the voices in her head so unbearable she could barely get out of bed, "Coffee?"

"Coffee's good," Bloodhound says, voice light in agreement, "Meeting somewhere?"

"I don't want to get hounded," Wraith shrugs, "Pun intended - by journalists and fanboys. Your place sounds fine."

Bloodhound huffs in an almost - laugh. They nod, pushing from the lockers, "Let's meet at eight. I can order takeout if you like."

"Coffee's fine...I don't want to intrude."

"It wouldn't be an intrusion, _vinur_ ," Bloodhound taps a finger to Wraith's chest, "You're so skinny, I'd insist."

Wraith sputters, rolling her eyes.

"Eight o'clock," Bloodhound repeats, walking back, "Don't be late."

Wraith still feels the ghost of their finger on her chest as they walk away.

 

-

 

After she showered, and then dressed herself in a black longsleeve shirt, baggy black cargos, and heavy black boots, Wraith takes the quick descent down to Bloodhound's apartment. Sponsors helped the Arena support a certain section of the upper quads to house the Apex champions. Wraith's apartment was two floors above Bloodhound's. Standing outside their door, the voices gently spoke. **They're waiting. Behind door**. Wraith knocked once, twice.

The door creaked open half a second after her second knock. The smell of incense wafted through the hallway. Bloodhound stood in their doorway, dressed in baggy brown cargos, a charcoal - colored hoodie, and a pair of black slippers. A dark brown bodysuit covered their hands and neck. They still had their headpiece on. This headpiece was slightly different than the one they wore in the arena, lacking the trimmings and flair, hose detached, front piece missing, leather straps tied around a hood that covered their head completely. Even without their usual armor, Bloodhound was still very broad in the shoulders and chest, arms and legs thick.

"Good to see you, Wraith," Bloodhound opened the door more, stretching an arm out, welcoming Wraith inside.

Inside was dark. The lights were dimmed down, casting a lazy orange glow over the apartment. There was an open kitchen, a stack of plastic black boxes on top of the countertop. The living room lacked a television, carpets and blankets covering burgundy furniture. The couches were pushed up against the wall, a stack of pillows and strewn blankets on a thick mattress in the middle of the floor. Along with an innumerable amount of plants, two bird cages hung from the ceiling, each with a single raven inside. The birds cooed, slightly honking in acknowledgment. Wondering why it was so dark, Wraith searched for windows, and found none. The walls were covered with intricately woven blankets.

"I hope the smell doesn't bother you," Bloodhound says, closing the door behind Wraith as she entered. Wraith inhaled deeply. All she could smell was the thick scent of burning incense.

"It smells good, actually," Wraith says, "Sorry, I should have brought something - "

" _E kki hafa áhyggjur af því_\- come, eat - " Bloodhound stretched an arm out, beckoning to the full counter, "Just delivered, still fresh. Do you like sushi?"

Out of habit, Wraith unties her boots and piles them next to the front door, allowing herself to be herded into a chair, "I don't know. Never had it before." Wraith had no memories of who she was - or memories of what she liked. She was learning new scents, new reactions, new feelings every day. She liked women, people of the nonbinary variety, and found men unattractive. She hated the color white. She liked green tea and iced coffee. Everything knew she learned about herself, she kept track of in the notes of her Cell. Little parts of herself that she gained back. Every fact precious.

Wealth wasn't physical. True wealth was knowing yourself, and Wraith was dirt poor.

Bloodhound quickly opens up the black boxes, roasted chicken and cooked rice and vegetables filling Wraith's senses. A rumble in Wraith's stomach makes Bloodhound huff a laugh. Bloodhound opens one box, filled with pink, white, and orange sushi pieces wrapped in seaweed, and places it in front of Wraith, "Fish is good for the heart, rich in protein," they neatly arrange the rest of the boxes, still standing, watching Wraith.

"Aren't you eating?" Wraith asks, watching Bloodhound pour a single glass of water.

 _"Nr,_ I've not much of an appetite today," they hand Wraith the water glass, "Besides. This is more than a...friendly get together. I wanted to speak with you about today."

"Yeah, I thought so," Wraith sighs, picking up a sushi piece. Raw fish slipped down her throat easy, and she couldn't help smile. _Sushi is good_ , she thinks, reminding herself to add it to her list, "It wasn't anything. I was just angry I got knocked out so early," she stuffed another piece of sushi into her mouth.

"That's not why," Bloodhound says with a tilt of their head, "I heard you yelling at yourself. You said you were ' _close_.' Close to what?"

The Void hummed in Wraith's head. When she couldn't make out voices, she learned nonverbal cues. Ringing and spikes of pain meant danger. Humming meant trust. Wraith trusted the voice of the Void. If that meant trusting Bloodhound, she could do that. It happened with Lifeline, and she was more than understanding with Wraith's predicament.

"You need to promise me something first," she says, locking her gaze onto the reflective lenses of Bloodhound's mask, "Everything I say here can't leave this room."

Bloodhound nods, "You have my word."

"I want to hear you say it."

Bloodhound leans forward, "Everything you say here will not leave this room. The Allfather strike me down if I break that promise."

Wraith felt in her gut this was a serious promise.

Throughout the meal, Wraith laid everything she knew out. She woke up in an IMC Detention Facility for the Mentally Ill, being beaten daily by guards, hearing the voice of the Void. Eventually, she learned to trust the voices, unlocking the power of the Void, and escaped. The IMC and the Apex Arena were connected, and every round she played, Wraith was closer and closer to learning who she was. The whole time she spoke, Bloodhound listened intently, nodding their head.

"I found a terminal last match. I hacked into it. I was going to download the files, but I didn't know Bangalore dropped in the same area," she shook her head, "I wish I paid more attention."

Bloodhound starts stacking the empty meal boxes, "You remember nothing of who you were? Not a name, even?"

"Nothing."

Bloodhound nods, tossing the boxes into a small garbage can, " _Andskoti_ ," they mutter, shutting the lid of the garbage, "When you escaped the facility the first time, did you grab anything before you left?"

"I wish I did, every day I wish I did, but I didn't. I hightailed it out the first chance I got, and never looked back," Wraith finishes her water.

"These...voices, they trained you?" Bloodhound sweeps off the counter with a rag.

"To use the Void, yes. Everything else came...naturally," Wraith pictures the guard who tried to grab her while she escaped, his pale skin red, face unrecognizable, uniform ripped. She didn't feel sorry for him. She didn't know if he survived after she left. She didn't care.

"You fought on instinct?" They hold a hand out for the glass, and Wraith hands it to them.

"Yes. It's how I survived until I joined Apex," Wraith watched Bloodhound place dirty utensils and her glass into the sink, "Selling my skills as a lookout. People will pay a lot for someone like me, but they didn't play on a field with an abandoned IMC facility under it."

"I know I promised coffee, but I find tea to be more appropriate when speaking on serious subjects. Is green tea alright?" They asked, holding a copper kettle. Wraith nods. Bloodhound places the kettle down, turning the stove on.

"How does it feel? To not know?" Bloodhound says, back turned.

"It feels..." _Terrible...horrible_ , "It's not even like...there's a hazy cloud I have to push through. It's more like I'm walking down a long road, and suddenly there's obstacles that appear in my way. It's sudden, and can happen so fast I don't even notice it."

"Does anyone else know of your...predicament?" Bloodhound asks, placing a small ceramic cup to the side.

"Lifeline. She thinks I might have head trauma, wants me to subject myself to therapy and medical tests."

"What's stopping you?"

"I escaped from a hospital. I don't want to go back," Wraith shakes a ringing in her head.

"Perfectly understandable, _vinur_. Many feel uncomfortable in a hospital. It heals, yes, but so much death and suffering happens behind white walls."

"What does that mean? _Vinur_?" Wraith asks. The kettle boils.

"It means _friend_ in the English language," Bloodhound responds, pouring the hot water into the cup. They sprinkle in a few ground tea leaves, letting it steep.

"What language is it?" Wraith grins, "One mysterious fighter to the another?" She kept her questions to herself the entire night, but found her curiosity slipping through.

"Icelandic," Bloodhound answers, "Old Earth language."

The Systems were filled with populated planets, people of different races and backgrounds mixing and mingling. Most humans living outside the First System forgot about the Old Earth languages, most devolving and learning English and another alien language. So far, Wraith only recognized and understood English. Wraith wonders how many other languages Bloodhound knows.

Bloodhound hands her the teacup.

"Thank you," Wraith says. It's small, black porcelain cup with a copper design of a tree on the side. Her hands fit perfectly around the cup, the earthy and clean scent of the tea easing her.

Bloodhound walks out of the open kitchen, motioning Wraith to the soft pile of pillows and blankets in the middle of the room. Wraith follows, letting Bloodhound lead them to the pile, "Sit, please," They say.

Wraith nestles herself in the mattress, pulling a large round pillow into her lap. Bloodhound leans back into one of the burgundy couches.

"Do you think you could be ex - military?" Bloodhound asks.

"Maybe. I don't have anything to search under. For all I know, they erased all evidence of me existing. It was a prison for the criminally insane, I could have been an experiment just as well. I could have people looking for me right now."

A tilt of their head, "And have you seen anyone?"

Wraith shakes her head, "No one. Doesn't mean nobody is watching."

"Hm," Bloodhound reaches over, grabbing a large vase from a side table, "Where did you get the name ' _Wraith_ ' ?" The vase was about thirteen inches long, with a neck that opened into a copper spiderweb pattern. Red glass covered the base, a copper knob on the side holding a long red hose coiled up. Wraith recognizes it as a hookah, one from a high - end smoke shop nearby.

"That's what the Void calls me," Wraith responds, blowing on her hot tea, taking a careful sip. **Our Wraith, strong and violent, keeper and warrior of the Void,** the voices hum in Wraith's head.

"Wraith," Bloodhound repeats, rolling off their tongue easy as they uncoil the hose from the hookah, "A wraith is a _vofa_ , a specter. Fitting for this Void to refer to you in that way. You're very fast on the field, using your wit as well as your talent. Do you like the name?"

"It's the only name I know," Wraith responds between sips of her tea.

Bloodhound grabs a small tin from the side table, "Do you smoke?"

"I don't use drugs," Wraith says, "I never took you as someone who got high in their free time."

Bloodhound's amused laugh is almost surprising, "While that's what a hookah is usually used for - I'm not interested in drugs. It's tobacco. I grow it myself, so it's free of any addicting chemicals they throw in cigarettes," They unscrew the copper knob on the side, opening the small silver tin, shoving dark tobacco leaves into the knob, "Have you ever smoked before?"

Wraith shakes her head, "I don't think so."

From their pocket, Bloodhound takes out a lighter, turning the hookah in their hand to reveal a wider opening. They flick the lighter on, holding it to the opening. Smoke filtered out of the top. Bloodhound slides off the couch, joining Wraith in the pile. The ravens above caw.

 _"Tch tch_ ," Bloodhound clicks, and the ravens settle back with a flutter of their wings, "Don't mind them, they don't like being in the cages for so long," They hold the hose out, "Nothing is more relaxing than a long smoke after a hard day of fighting."

Wraith places her teacup on the floor. She takes the hose, bringing it up to her lips.

"Don't breathe it in, just hold it, and breathe out," Bloodhound says. Wraith can feel their curious eyes on her. Rather than invasive, it warms Wraith.

 _Don't be weird,_ she thinks to herself.

Wraith sucks in smoke. It's rich, and heavy, and fills Wraith's body with warmth. She holds it in, then blows it out. The smoke is a dark gray. Wraith cringes at the sour taste.

"It's an acquired taste," Bloodhound continues with a quiet laugh. They gently coax the hose from Wraith's hand, holding the nozzle to one filter of their mask, "My birds don't like the scent much, either," They breathe deep, pausing, and two clouds of smoke lazily exit both filters with a sigh. Bloodhound attempts to return the hose back, but Wraith holds a hand up, shaking her head.

"Not for me," she says. Bloodhound nods, taking another deep drag.

 **Mask. Home. Hiding. What are they hiding?** The Void starts to ring in Wraith's head. She flinches from the pain.

"Is something wrong, Wraith?" Bloodhound asks, sitting up.

"Why wear that mask all the time?" Wraith asks them, quickly, squeezing her eyes shut to will the pain away, "You're home, why the mask?"

"Ah. Well," Bloodhound blows smoke out, "There are two reasons. One, is that it's out of habit. There's planets out in the systems who's air will kill you if you breathe it...animals and creatures who spray pheromones that can melt your skin and defile your sensibilities. While it's important to have working limbs, I value my eyesight more. The second reason is for the Allfather."

"Who's the Allfather?" Wraith was familiar with the name - everyone was. Bloodhound made it a statement to win rounds in his name. Wraith would catch Bloodhound praying before rounds at times, ravens perched on their shoulders, watching with glassy black eyes.

"He is part of an old, old religion. Not many remember that he was once worshipped. But the region I was born from, historically, worshipped him, and so I carried that piece with me," they lean back on their hands, "A few who worship him take it...to the extreme. Human sacrifices, self mutilation" they shake their head.

"Sounds like a bunch of fools," Wraith says, quiet, the ring in the back of her mind subsiding back into a hum.

Bloodhound laughs, "Yes, they are. Not me. I give to the Allfather in other ways. After a good hunt, I take part of the trophy and burn it in honor of him. In the arena, me becoming that day's Champion is a sacrifice, in a way. Afterwards, I donate a portion of my winnings to a preservation sanctuary, in an act to show respect to the land. I wear the mask," they turn their head to Wraith, "Because my being is devoted to him. I keep myself hidden, and in return, he allows me the skills and abilities to hunt," Bloodhound leans in closer. Wraith could smell the smoke through their mask, "I only take it off when I am alone."

"Doesn't it get in the way?" Wraith asks. Her tea had become lukewarm.

"Not as much as you think," Bloodhound says, turning back, "On the bright side, it's good for my rank in the Arena. The more mysterious you are, the more people are desperate to solve you. They pour money into you with the hopes that you'll crack," they take one more long drag, before returning the hookah back to the its place on the side table.

"Think you have a price?" Wraith asks, finishing her cup and placing it to the side, curling into the pillow in her lap. Coziness overtakes her, eyes fluttering.

"This system is too selfish for my price," Bloodhound chuckles, "What would your price be?"

"Unlimited access to IMC systems," Wraith replies, "I would expose every little dirty secret they have."

Bloodhound nods, "And find yourself in the fray."

"If I'm still there," Wraith closes her eyes, letting herself be coaxed into a lull by the warm environment of Bloodhound's apartment.

"Would you cut and run? After you find what you were looking for?" Bloodhound asks, laying back onto the cushions.

"No. I'd stay and track down everyone who put me in that facility. After that, I'd search for who I was. Family, if I have any."

"Well, if you ever need an expert tracker, I'm available."

Wraith snorts, "It'll be ugly."

"A little ugliness never bothered me, just look at my living room," they sit up on their elbow, leaning on their side to face Wraith.

With a smile, Wraith sinks more into the pillows. Bloodhound makes a _'Hm,_ ' in the back of their throat, and Wraith feels a hand brush the back of her ponytail.

"Your hair is getting long," Bloodhound remarks, "Be careful, you don't want anything to get caught in your equipment."

"I woke up with no hair in the detention facility. I'm trying to grow it out," Wraith responds, Void going silent. She pushes away the urge to lean back into Bloodhound's touch, "I like a short cut, though."

"Your style now frames your face well. I, however, think you would look cute with a shaved head."

Wraith's eyes snap open. _Cute_? Wraith sits up. The Void is still silent. Bloodhound retracts their hand.

" _Afsaka_ , I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," Bloodhound sits up, and shifts slightly to their right, away from Wraith. Before Wraith can process what she's doing, her hand flies out, softly but tightly grabbing Bloodhound's wrist.

"I'm not uncomfortable," Wraith says quickly.

There's a long, long silence between them. Wraith watches Bloodhound's chest rise. And fall. Rise. And fall. Slow. Unworried. Wraith let's go of their wrist. Bloodhound shifts so their body faces Wraith. Carefully, Bloodhound brings their hand back to Wraith's head, gently cradling her.

"Can I offer you another cup of tea?" They say, their voice a ghost in the air. The voice of the Void hums. Wraith leans into Bloodhound's body, pulling the pillow from her lap, "Or we could go to that little dessert shop down the street, grab a few cakes."

Wraith's lips brush one of the filters of Bloodhound's mask, "I'm not prepared to leave just yet."

That prompts a deep sigh from Bloodhound. They lean back, and Wraith climbs on top to straddle their hips.

"Was this a date?" Wraith asks, almost playfully, hands splayed on Bloodhound's chest.

Bloodhound chuckles, "No," their hands crawl up Wraith's thighs, "When I started cleaning I realized how it must have sounded to you. But, ah, does that trouble you?"

"No. We're both adults here," Wraith plays with the edge where Bloodhound's hood met with the rest of their hoodie. Wraith traces along their mask, circling one of the filters. She drags her fingers down, gently tracing the muscle of Bloodhound's neck through their bodysuit, "I'm sure the Allfather wouldn't mind if I make you mine tonight."

Bloodhound laughs dryly as Wraith leans forward and kisses the mouthpiece of their mask.

Thankfully, Wraith retained knowledge of her own body autonomy. She knew how to kiss, knew the spots on the body that were sensitive to touch. Any past partners were hidden, but she could remember hands on her body, mouths kissing down, warm and loving. There was no pain in those memories.

Bloodhound's hands move up Wraith's thighs, up Wraith's shirt, feeling around her stomach and hips. Their bodysuit is soft against her skin. Wraith rolls her tongue along their mouthpiece, kisses turning feverish. Their mask is the bitter combination of the tobacco and metal. Bloodhound sighs.

"No rush," their hands make their way to Wraith's back, tracing up her shoulders lightly, "You're so tense."

"I've never been the type to take my time," Wraith responds, dipping her hips down, rolling. She can't feel anything under the many layers Bloodhound encases themself in.

Bloodhound tuts, hands moving down to Wraith's hips. In a swift motion, Bloodhound spins them both, and Bloodhound's broader form is over her. Usually, the Void would start ringing, and the person above would be reduced to ashes, but the gentleness and the calmness that Bloodhound exhibits expels any negative thoughts in Wraith's head.

"You've had a lot on your mind lately," Bloodhound says, voice deep and sultry, "Allow me to relieve some of that stress for you."

Lips curling into a Cheshire grin, Wraith hooks her legs over Bloodhound's midsection, arms folding around their neck, bringing them down, "This day has been very stressful..."

Bloodhound's hands move from Wraith's hips to up her shirt, stopping short of her breasts, tracing her ribs, "Let me take care of you."

The subtle weakness in Bloodhound's voice runs straight between Wraith's legs. Wraith nods, kissing the front of Bloodhound's mask. Humming, Bloodhound pushes Wraith's plain black sports bra up and over her chest. They grab at Wraith's breasts, fondling her, Wraith pushing up into their touch, kissing harder against their mask.

"Sensitive," Bloodhound remarks quietly, Wraith's light - colored nipples pebbling. Bloodhound cautiously moves their other hand down Wraith's abdomen. They trace over the edge of Wraith's cargos.

Stomach fluttering, Wraith pulls at the back of Bloodhound's hoodie. Bloodhound dips their hand below Wraith's beltline, lightly rubbing their hand over her slit through tight black boxers.

" _There_ \- " Wraith says quietly, pushing up.

"Sh sh, _ég hef þig_....don't worry. Relax, I have you," Bloodhound tuts, " _Slaka á_ ," Bloodhound pulls their face away, cradling into the crook of Wraith's neck, sliding their fingers up and down.

Wraith didn't feel the cold, mysterious pulse of the Void in her body. That was pushed aside by hot food, a cozy atmosphere, and Bloodhound's warm, careful touch. Silk fingers moved under Wraith's boxers, threading through the collected hair, tracing up her slit.

"Hm...do me a favor, Wraith?" Bloodhound asks.

"Mhm," Wraith mumbles.

"Lay on your stomach for me."

Wraith nods as Bloodhound pulls away. She sits up on her knees, tugging her pants and underwear down and off, pulling her shirt over her head, bra still bunched up over her chest. The air of the room is warm on her skin. Bloodhound is staring at her, hands fisted against their thighs.

"Like what you see?" Wraith teases, sitting back on her hands, "Are you going to keep everything on?"

"I would prefer to," Bloodhound responds, "Does that trouble you?"

"No," Wraith says with a shake of her head. It was a little strange, but not off - putting. Bloodhound brushes a thumb against Wraith's bottom lip.

"Ah, but what I wouldn't give to kiss that pretty mouth of yours," Bloodhound says wistfully.

"It's not too late," Wraith says, leaning in, "You can kiss me. I won't open my eyes," For flair, Wraith closes her eyes, flitting her tongue out to lick at Bloodhound's thumb, sucking on the digit.

Almost breathless, Bloodhound slumps, " _Svo yndislegt_...lie down, please."

That almost sounded like begging. Wraith rolls onto her stomach, leaning her chin against her crossed arms, hips up. Silk brushes up the backs of her thighs, teasing the joint where thigh met groin. Wraith can feel Bloodhound's hot gaze scan over her skin.

"You're staring," Wraith points out, eyes closing.

"I like the way you look," Bloodhound replies, hands grasping at Wraith's behind, pulling her cheeks apart, "Gods, I haven't even started, and you're dripping wet."

Wraith's body flushes, thighs spreading in response.

"Dirty talk is a yes, I see," Bloodhound teases.

Two fingers trace Wraith's outer labia, fingertips pressing up into her clit, rolling clockwise. Wraith arches her back with a muffled moan. Bloodhound continues, changing pace, rolling clockwise, counter clockwise, staying quiet. _Are they listening to me?_ Wraith moves her hips down, matching Bloodhound's fingers. A strong hand falls to Wraith's hip.

" _Lettur_ , _ég hef þig_. Relax."

"I don't think I can," Wraith mutters into her arms.

How long Wraith had been touched by another person, she had no idea. After escaping the detention facility, Wraith decided that it was better to abstain from all contact with other people. Everything Bloodhound did to her was overwhelming, Wraith's body subconsciously meeting every touch.

"Ah, silly me, a strong fighter like yourself isn't able to be out of the action for too long," Bloodhound pulls away, "Turn back over, _fallegur_ , maybe this will be more your speed."

Wraith turns over, head nestled between two cushions. Head swimming with warmth, the room feels like a dream, Bloodhound casting a lazy shadow over her body. _What I wouldn't give to see whats under all those clothes,_ Wraith thinks. Bloodhound spreads Wraith's legs apart, pulling her hips up, angling her so her lower half was sitting in their lap, but she was still laying comfortably against the cushions.

"A lovely view," Bloodhound comments, low voice.

Blood running hot, Wraith wraps her thighs around Bloodhound's middle. Bloodhound thumbs at Wraith's clit, Wraith lifting her chin in response, eyes half - lidded. She watches two thick fingers press against her cunt, tips probing. Bloodhound watches Wraith, looking for any discomfort, before thrusting their fingers inside. Wraith moans loudly, clenching. She bites down on her hand, her other hand digging into the pillows.

"Tell me if it's too much," Bloodhound says, twisting their fingers, curling up.

Brain fried, Wraith can only nod in acknowledgement, eyes fixed on Bloodhound's digits disappearing inside of her. Bloodhound picks up a steady, even tempo, lovingly fucking Wraith with their fingers. Wraith's legs tighten their grip around Bloodhound's waist. The room's quietness is broken by Wraith's moaning.

"So lovely," Bloodhound coos, "Is this good?"

Wraith nods, hips rolling with Bloodhound's fingers. She feels full, Bloodhound's other hand warm on her belly, nerves bubbling into wanton desire.

" _Gott....Gott_ ," Bloodhound's hand crawls upward, grabbing at Wraith's chest.

Wraith can feel the pressure build up in her core. She sits up slightly, pawing at Bloodhound's chest, trying to pull them closer. Bloodhound wordlessly obliges, fingers pressing up as they let themself be dragged down, towering over Wraith's body as their hand works faster. Wraith sloppily rolls her tongue over the front of Bloodhound's mask, rolling her hips back and forth, meeting Bloodhound's pace.

" _K lára fyrir mig_. Wraith, you look beautiful," Bloodhounds digits jerk up, pressing hard into Wraith's clit.

Hearing the lust in Bloodhound's voice, Wraith crashes. Her hips jerk once, twice, and the pressure floods, sparking through her belly and thighs. Mind blanking, a gutteral moan shakes the room. Stars dance in Wraith's vision, holding herself tight against Bloodhound as she rides her high out.

When she feels herself align back with the world, Wraith falls back onto the pillows, exhaling. She brushes a lock of hair from her sticky forehead. The lenses of Bloodhound's mask are fogged. In a daze, Wraith wipes the condensation away. Bloodhound is deathly still, chest rising and falling gently, staring down. Wraith grunts as Bloodhound pulls their fingers out. They rub the excess slick on Wraith's thigh, leaning forward to press their mask into Wraith's shoulder with a heavy sigh that breaks off into a quiet laugh.

" _Wow_ ," Bloodhound says, nuzzling into Wraith's neck. Wraith can feel them drag the saliva she left behind on their mouthpiece. Bloodhound falls to the side, out of Wraith's arms and into the pillows, laying on their back.

Wraith smoothes back her hair, "You said it," Her groin pulsing sensitively, she gently shifts onto her side, "What about you?" She drags her hand up Bloodhound's thigh, stopping just short of their groin.

Bloodhound chuckles, "Another time, perhaps," they sit up on their elbows, "If...that's alright with you."

"I would love to do this again," Wraith moves her hand up, settling on Bloodhound's stomach. She notes how hard their gut feels when she gives them a squeeze. It stirs the warmth that blooms in Wraith's chest. _Next time, I'll repay the favor. Don't think I won't, Bloth._

"For now," Wraith sits up, pulling her bra back down, reaching over and grabbing her discarded pants, "I should be going."

Two thick arms encase her midsection, and Wraith is pulled back down into the blankets and pillows.

"I think," Bloodhound presses their head into Wraith's chest, "You should stay the night," they curl into Wraith's side.

"I don't know," Wraith smirks, "People will talk."

A beat of uncertainty, before Bloodhound answers.

"Would you be adverse to it? If they did...' _talk_ '?" their voice low.

Wraith takes pause. _They're joking_ , Wraith thinks. Still, Wraith's mind wanders to the future. What if she lives out her life, and she never learns the truth of what happened to her? Would she spend the rest of her time alive alone, having cut off ties with everyone? If she lived the year out, anyway.

But the future is so far, and the timeline the Void shows her are numerous. Wraith finds that she doesn't care much at the moment.

"No," Wraith says, finally cutting through the silence.

" _Gott_ ," Bloodhound says, "I'll make you breakfast in the morning...you're still so skinny," they squeeze the slight muscle of Wraith's abdomen.

Sleepiness overtaking her, Wraith lets the hum of the Void, the chirping of the ravens, and Bloodhound's even breathing lull her to blackness.


End file.
